Open Letter to a Thief
Could you please bring my mini-van back? She is a beautiful, black, 2005 Honda Odyssey and we really liked her very much.
The first day we brought her home, she cuddled us in her arms and drove us to Florida on a family vacation.
She has rushed kids to the hospital in the darkest hours of the night when they were hurt or sick. She whisked my wife to the NICU when my son was born premature, and brought him home for the first time when he was well. She also brought home my daughter after she was born too and to this day she loves to look out the widows at the great wide world.
She blasted music and thumped her bass for our teenage son when he wanted to go hang out with his buddies, and she kept the kept the kids happy by playing movie after movie during long, boring hauls.
When I was lost, she never nagged me about the short cut I decided to take. She simply and softly told me which way to turn. And when I chose to ignore her, she didn’t complain. She waited a few minutes and told me the next best way to get to our destination. And when I finally realized that she was right, and I was wrong, not once did she utter the dreaded, “I told you so.” She quietly cooed, “Next left, 500 feet.”
Many times my wife and I would steal away to the confines of her steel doors and insulated roofing, to hide from screaming kids, barking dogs, and ringing telephones. And once in a while, when the planets were aligned and there were no kids to be found, she closed her eyes and let my wife and I play football star and cheerleader.
She never complained about the french-fries between the seats, the forgotten smelly diaper left in the back, the half-eaten hamburger under the chair, or the spoiled milk in the sippy-cup that no one could ever find. She never complained when the kids would drag the handlebars of their bikes down the side of her doors or write wash me in the pollen on the back window during the spring.
She charged our Blackberries, held our coffee, took pets to the vet, and took us to work.
She was to be the site of first cigarettes, first beers, first kisses, first dates and lost virginities. She was to be the place for break-ups, make-ups, stand-ups and let-downs.
Through rain or snow, hot or cold, she never let us down.
You see, I am deployed right now, fighting for your freedom. My wife and 6 of my 7 kids depend on her quite a bit. My son, who is in the Marine Corps, has even promised to keep defending your freedom even though you stole our van.
So if you could, please bring her back. She was 6 months away from being paid off. We were going to keep her forever.
Even though your friends tell you not to feel guilty because insurance pays it off, that’s not really how it works. You see, the insurance company screws you. They give you what they think the car is worth, so, you can’t really replace what you have unless you take out another loan, and I can’t really afford to do that right now. Besides, no amount of money could replace her. She was one of a kind. But you wouldn’t know that because you’ve probably never worked honest and hard for something you’ve owned, because if you did, you wouldn’t have stolen my van.
But as a scumbag thief who steals from women and children while their husbands or fathers are deployed, I feel that I should give you some advice. Stop stealing and return our van!
BECAUSE IF I FIND YOU, YOU WILL HAVE A VERY, VERY, VERY, BAD DAY.